


i know this feeling (yes, i know it very well)

by the_tenerife_sea



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Crossover, Dimension Travel, Fake Science, Gen, Miles Morales Needs a Hug, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, OH also...i rubbed my grimy stony-shipping hands all over this, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Post-Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018), Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, WIP, just go with it!, the kids need hugs :(
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 02:40:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18228797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_tenerife_sea/pseuds/the_tenerife_sea
Summary: “Who are you?” The boy’s voice was breathless and scared.Huh. This seemed awfully familiar. At least Peter wasn’t tied up and dangling from the ceiling this time.____Or, interdimensional travel is a bitch.





	i know this feeling (yes, i know it very well)

**Author's Note:**

> This is very self-indulgent and only half done as of right now. I'm posting it because I need some sort of encouragement to finish it, and knowing it's public and only half done will hopefully be the final push.
> 
> Title from the song Memories by Thutmose (aka my fave from the Into the Spider-Verse soundtrack)
> 
> :)

Peter’s head slammed into the ground, the impact knocking the wind out of him. He heard yelling from somewhere above him and found the strength to lift his eyelids a few millimeters, just enough for him to see a small blurry blob moving near his head.

He coughed. Someone yelled again. Whoever it was sounded a lot like Miles and that thought made his chest ache.

He forced his eyes open more, trying to focus on the fuzzy images being sent to his brain. It’d be great if the other person in the room would stop  _ yelling _ , but trying to parse out the stimuli attacking his debilitated senses seemed a bit more important than telling the guy hovering over him to shut the hell up.

After another few seconds, Peter quickly came to the conclusion that the blurry person next to him was  _ not _ Miles, his hair and skin were too light, but based on his size and the pitch of his voice, it most certainly was a kid. Probably about Miles’ age, actually.

The rest of his senses were slowly coming back to him, and he was eventually able to make out the one question the kid seemed to be repeating.

“Who are you?” The boy’s voice was breathless and scared.

Huh. This seemed awfully familiar. At least he wasn’t tied up and dangling from the ceiling this time.

Peter groaned from his spot on the floor, blinking rapidly to get rid of the remaining dizziness and the accompanying headache. He sat up, bracing himself of his elbows. His sudden movement caused the kid to scramble backward until his back hit the wall behind him.

“I should be asking you the same thing, kid.” Most of the black spots had finally cleared from his vision and he began cataloging his surroundings. He was in a lab of some sort, screens and machines buzzing quietly around him. Most of the surrounding walls were glass, but they didn’t lead to the outside. He briefly wondered if they were underground or something. The fluorescent lights above him were dimmed, almost like they were on backup emergency power, and Peter silently cursed the unfamiliarity of the room. There was no context for him to figure out which dimension he’d been dropped into this time.

Because that was his life now.

Peter brought his attention back to the kid. He was backed up against the wall gatherers from him, his arm extended towards Peter and equipped with…yup. That was a web-shooter.

_You’ve gotta be kidding me,_ he thought. _Another spider-person. Why can’t I wake up in my arch nemesis’ secret lair like a normal superhero—_  

But Peter’s inner monologue was cut short when he finally got a good look at the kid’s face.

Because —  _ no.  _ That’s not possible. This couldn’t be happening.

The kid staring back at Peter was...Peter. The kid was  _ him _ . Not a perfect, blonde haired, blue eyed version of himself, like from Miles’ dimension, or even a cartoon pig version of himself.

No, this wasn’t a different version of himself at all. It was like this kid jumped right out of Peter’s high school yearbook. He was looking at sixteen-year-old Peter B. Parker.

He scrubbed at his eyes with his fists. “Oh my god.”

At the sound of Peter’s voice, the kid — _mini him_ — curled further into his defensive position, web-shooter pointed directly at Peter’s chest. “Who are you?” he repeated, the previous nervousness in his voice disappearing and his eyes turning steely. 

Peter felt that tingling in the back of his head, a feeling he was now growing accustomed to, god help him, and saw the kid’s web-shooter free hand fly to the back of his neck. It wasn’t quite the same as the fizzing of his spider-sense, which mainly consisted of  _ danger danger danger you’re gonna die _ , but more like a tickle. Not uncomfortable, but still strange. The kid winced slightly before his eyes widened.

“You’re like me.”

Peter scoffed. “I think I  _ am _ you, kid.”

_ So,  _ he thought,  _ do I get to add time travel to my resume? _

But this  _ couldn’t  _ be time travel, because he’s never seen this lab in his life. Plus, if this was really time travel, wouldn’t he remember an impromptu visit from his older self?

His brain hurt too much to properly work through all the possible scenarios.

Conveniently, Peter’s eyes found a digital clock on the wall, flashing with the date and time. The red  _ 2018 _ was both a comfort and a damnation. It was 2018 in his universe too. So, not time travel then. Just boring old interdimensional travel, if the other spider-person across the room was anything to go by.

Fuck his life. Seriously.

“Peter!” Another voice called suddenly. A man ran into the lab, nearly tripping over his own feet. “Pete, kid, what the hell was that noise? Giving you full access to the lab means  _ no blowing things up _ \--”

Mini Peter looked like a deer caught in headlights, his eyes darting back and forth between Peter and the newcomer. There wasn’t even time to  _ consider _ hiding before the guy noticed Peter sitting on the floor.

The man’s arm shot out and metal seamlessly formed around his hand, the center of his palm glowing brightly, and  _ god fucking dammit, _ now Peter had to deal with Iron Man too?

“Who the hell are you?” Stark demanded.

Before Peter could speak, Mini Peter jumped in front of him, creating a barrier between him and Stark. “Wait! Mr. Stark, stop!”

Stark’s eye twitched, but he lowered the Iron Man gauntlet slightly. “What’s going on, Peter?”

“He’s a spider-person!” Mini Peter told him. “He’s like me!”

“What the hell are you talking about, Pete? How did he get past Friday?”

Peter decided to chime in and save — well, himself. “It’s kinda complicated, dude.” 

Stark’s eyes snapped from mini Peter’s to his, distrust evident in his gaze. “Start talking,” he addressed to no one specific.

And Mini Peter was off like a rocket, rambling so quickly that even Peter couldn’t understand was he was saying, and he used to  _ be _ him. Was he really that small and annoying once?

“Take a breath, short stack,” Peter said. His head hadn’t ceased pounding, and the kid’s useless babbling was no help. He started to get up, but still felt a little shaky. Traveling dimensions will do that to you, he supposed. Mini Peter noticed and gave him a hand, which he gratefully took.

His head suddenly buzzed in warning and he instinctually ducked out of the way. An explosion sounded behind him.

“Mr. Stark!” Mini Peter shouted. 

“Oh my god.” Peter took a few steps back from Stark and mini Peter, his heart beating rapidly. “You tried to shoot me!”

“You’re not allowed to touch him until I get some answers,” Stark said darkly, the palm of his metal-encased hand smoking.

This dimension was even weirder than Miles’, and Peter was fucking  _ blonde _ in that universe. He didn’t think it could get much weirder than that.

But Iron Man threatening to kill him because he touched the kid, a kid that was the younger version of  _ himself _ , for crying out loud, was... _ strange. _ In what world would Iron Man give a shit about what happened to Spider-man? (Dumb question, Peter. In this world, obviously.)

Peter started talking in case Stark decided his silence was worth another repulsor beam to the head.

“This isn’t my dimension. I don’t know how I got here, but I’m not supposed to be here.” He glanced at mini him before he continued his spiel. “My name is Peter B. Parker. I’m thirty-eight and I live in Queens.” Mini Peter began inching towards Stark, confusion and fear etched onto his face. “Oh, and I’m Spider-Man,” he almost forgot, then pointed to mini him. “And you are, too, am I right?”

Mini Peter only nodded in response, his face white as a sheet.

“Peter,” Stark said, not taking his eyes off Peter but more than likely speaking to mini Peter, if his scolding tone was anything to go by. “Did you discover time travel in the thirty minutes I left you alone? Because, if so, good job, but this doesn’t seem like an ideal way to test it.”

Mini Peter opened his mouth, presumably to defend himself, but Peter answered for him instead.

“Not time travel,” he clarified. “Interdimensional travel. This isn’t the first time it’s happened to me.”

“Friday, DNA scan,” Stark said.

“DNA scan completed,” a woman’s voice answered not five seconds later. “Peter B. Parker is not lying. His DNA matches the DNA you have on record for Peter.”

Before Peter could say  _ what the fuck _ , Stark’s sharp look silenced him. “Explain yourself, or I blast your head off _.  _ Your choice.”

“I’m  _ trying to _ , dude,” Peter replied somewhat hysterically, and then, as briefly as he could, went into what happened with Kingpin, Miles, the other spider-people, and the particle accelerator that brought them all together. Stark’s face remained stoic during the entire explanation, but mini Peter looked even more frightened than he did before if anything.

“I don’t know how I got here,” Peter finally finished. “But I’m guessing it has something to do with mini-me over there.”

Stark turned to the spider-boy in question, and mini Peter looked a bit queasy.

“Uh,” mini him whispered, and Peter hated how easily he recognized that helpless look in his eyes, his  _ own _ eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“What did you  _ do _ ?” Stark’s wrist gauntlet had retracted back into his watch during Peter’s story, so he must have decided at some point that Peter was  _ friend  _ and  _ not foe,  _ but the look he gave mini Peter made him wanna run and hide like he was gonna get shot at again.

“I — I just,” the kid stuttered, not meeting Stark’s eyes. “I just wanted to see my parents.”

Stark’s face fell, his inflection filled with disappointment. “Peter, tell me you didn’t…”

Mini Peter’s gaze slowly met Stark’s and he miserably stated, “I messed with barf.”

Peter blanched. “Excuse me, what? What does vomit have to do with bringing me to this dimension?”

“Not  _ barf,”  _ Stark barked. “B-A-R-F, or Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing. I made it to help people with traumatic memories.” He then looked at mini Peter, his stance tense. “And I told  _ you _ not to  _ mess with it _ .”

There was childish defiance in mini Peter’s eyes. A spark of determination there too. Peter wondered when that spark would inevitably disappear. “I wanted to see my parents,” he repeated stubbornly.

“And I told you it wasn’t made for that!” Stark bit back.

Mini Peter flinched. “I know,” he said. “I tried to...I rewired some things. Looked at the coding.”

Stark looked shocked. “ _ Peter _ .”

“You wouldn’t  _ help me _ !” Mini Peter exploded suddenly. “I just wanted to  _ talk _ to them and you weren’t gonna help me recalibrate it so I…” He trailed off, looking lost, like he didn’t have any more words to explain himself.

Stark didn’t wait for him to finish, gesturing wildly towards where Peter was standing. “Well, look what happened!” Peter waved at them, grimacing. “You ripped your older self from another dimension! What were you thinking? No—” Stark cut himself off, holding a finger up and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Don’t answer that. You obviously weren’t thinking."

Peter felt like he shouldn’t be watching this. It was reminiscent of that sick, embarrassed feeling you got when your friend gets in trouble while you’re at their house and you have to listen to their parents punish them.

Mini him was as red as a tomato, looking furious and embarrassed and sad all at once. His mouth opened, but Stark spoke over him.

“Go to your room. I have to sort this out. Hopefully  _ adult  _ you is mature enough to handle that, because  _ you _ certainly aren’t!”

_ Who’s gonna tell him _ , Peter thought with a cringe.

Mini Peter’s jaw clenched, but he walked away without another word.

“And no spider-manning until we figure this out either! Straight to your room. Friday will rat you out and you know it so don’t even try it,” Stark called after his retreating figure. The kid didn’t even turn around.

Stark sighed, his back turned to Peter, and leaned heavily against a workbench.

Peter cleared his throat awkwardly, jerking his thumb towards where mini Peter had just left. “Teenagers, am I right?”

  
  


\----------

 

 

Miles’ spider-sense had been going off for two hours straight. 

He was curled in a ball on his bed at school and he was about to claw his eyeballs out, he was so stressed. His head just wouldn’t  _ shut up. _

Something was happening, but he didn’t know  _ where _ or  _ what _ and if he didn’t figure it out soon he might have a heart attack from all the epinephrine shooting up his spine and making his head buzz. 

At first, he thought Gwen was trying to get a hold of him. Whenever she opened up a portal to his dimension, his spider-sense would go haywire for a few seconds before he saw her face and realized what was happening. But no portal had opened.

Something was  _ happening _ .

He remembered the last time he talked to Gwen, and how she finally admitted to him that  _ she _ was the one opening the portals after he demanded answers from her. He had thought she was getting mixed up with villains from her dimension, just to talk to him. She denied that immediately (“How  _ stupid _ do you think I am, Miles?”) and admitted how dimensional travel sort of became an extension of her powers after everything that had happened. She said that he could probably manipulate interdimensional portals too, considering how the spider that bit him already seemed to be a jacked up version of whatever bit everybody else. But she also told him it was dangerous, that she had almost gotten stuck in the wrong time and place  _ again _ , that she was still practicing.

Plus, the thought of the colorful dark pulses of an interdimensional portal, one that  _ he _ was making, but not necessarily controlling, sent him into a spiral of anxiety

So he had never tried.

He had never considered trying, either, but now something was happening and everything felt  _ wrong _ .

And he had the unexplainable feeling that  _ he _ could fix it.

Miles grabbed his spider suit from his hamper and put it on. He was unsure what he would face once he figured out how to dimension hop, but he prayed that once he did his senses would chill the hell out.

He concentrated on his hands, like Gwen had told him, opening and closing them, remembering the weightless but crushing  _ pull _ of a dimensional portal.

He felt a sharp _tug_ at the back of his head, a final stab of his spider-sense, warning him. 

Then he was falling.

 

 

\---------

 

Peter was lounging on the couch in Stark’s lab, his head hanging over the armrest. Stark was staring at a floating holographic monitor, mumbling nonsense to himself.

“He’s too smart for his own good, see if I ever leave him down here again.” He swiped his hand and the screen changed, blueprints labeled B.A.R.F flashing through the air. “I thought we were over this disobeying thing when I gave him the suit back but  _ no _ —”

“Stark,” Peter interrupted, sitting up and walking over to where the other man was fidgeting. He hoisted himself up onto the workbench in front of where Stark was standing. Stark didn’t spare him a glance, eyes still focused on the glowing screens.  “Listening to you talk to yourself is  _ riveting _ , believe me, but shouldn’t we figure out how to send me home? I’m sick of finding myself in different universes. I can barely handle my own.”

Stark glared at him, his stare calculating. “Is this what he’s going to become?”

“Excuse me?”

Stark looked Peter up and down, his expression unreadable. “Is my Peter going to become,” he gestured vaguely, “a bitter, old, jaded superhero?”

“Hey, I’m getting over the bitter and jaded part!” Peter shot back. “And you should look in a mirror every once in a while.”

Stark’s jaw shifted and the anger in his stare returned tenfold. “I think I am right now.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “This isn’t about your insecurities, Stark. I want to go  _ home _ . MJ and I had dinner plans—”

“I’m working on it!” Stark spat at him, hand slashing violently through the holograms.

Peter put his hands up in surrender, surprised at how easily Stark snapped. “Alright! I believe you.”

Stark forcibly relaxed his shoulders and grabbed a tablet that was sitting on the workbench, typing so fast that even with super senses Peter could barely follow his fingers. The quiet stretched on, but at least Stark had stopped talking to himself.

“Please call me Tony,” Stark said eventually, breaking the silence, his voice oddly soft. “It’d be nice if one version of Peter Parker called me Tony.”

“Tony,” Peter said. “Fine.”

It was quiet again, and Peter entertained himself by swinging his feet back and forth on the bench like a child. He wondered if the actual child version of himself, the one that was currently grounded to his room, did this when he was hanging out in Stark’s —  _ Tony’s  _ lab.

Peter had about a million questions flitting through his head, but Tony didn’t seem to be in the mood to answer them, and Peter wasn’t in the mood to be treated like his sixteen-year-old counterpart.

“I’m hungry,” he settled on, which really made him sound like the adult he was.

Tony looked up from his tablet. “Friday, order Chinese. Be sure to add an extra order of chicken fried rice.”

Fuck, that’s definitely what he would have ordered. Mini him and big him weren’t so different, apparently. He wondered where, or when, the similarities stopped.

Tony stood up and headed towards the door to the lab, motioning for Peter to follow. He led them through the hall and to the elevator. “To the common living area, please,” he said. “No use in trying to sort out what spider-boy did tonight.” He gave Peter an amused look. “Especially on an empty stomach.”

Peter frowned. “Are you talking to me?”

“No, I’m talking to Friday.”

“Friday?”

“Yes, Mr. Peter B. Parker?” It was the same female voice as before. 

Peter looked up at the ceiling. “What?”

“I said, ‘Yes, Mr. Peter B. Park—’”

“That’s enough, Fri,” Tony said, teasing. “She’s one of the AIs I built.”

Peter kind of wanted to roll his eyes, but he was too impressed by how well coded FRIDAY must be to understand and communicate sarcasm.

“She’s always listening,” Tony added. “If you need something, just ask her.”

“Alright then, cool,” Peter said, grateful he wasn’t being treated like a prisoner in Tony’s home.

The elevator doors opened, revealing a living room space with a connected kitchen and dining room. Tony set his tablet on the granite countertop and turned to open the fridge. “Beer?” he asked.

“Please.”

Tony slid him a bottle, opening a drawer. “We have a bottle opener somewhere—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Peter interrupted, flicking the underside of the cap and catching the metal lid in his hand. “I got it.”

“Right,” Tony said. “Spider strength. Impressive.”

Peter nodded and took a long swig of his drink, sitting heavily in a chair at the end of the long dining table.

“Wait,” Tony said suddenly, eyeing the bottle in Peter’s hand. “Can you even get drunk? People with enhanced metabolisms usually can’t.”

Peter gulped the beer like it was water, hiding a burp behind his hand. “Yeah,” he said when he polished off most of the bottle. “But not easily. It takes a lot of booze for me to feel it.”

“Ah,” Tony said, pouring himself a glass of water. “I don’t want to know how you figured that out.”

Peter winked at him.

It was quiet again, Tony fidgeting and Peter trying to subtly drink his beer as quickly as possible so he could ask for another. He wondered if it would be rude to ask for something harder, like an entire bottle of vodka, perhaps, when FRIDAY announced the food was here. 

“Tell Peter please, FRIDAY,” Tony said as he headed towards the elevator.

“On it, boss.”

Peter was only alone in the kitchen for a few minutes when he felt that tickling at the back of his neck again. He looked over his shoulder to see mini Peter emerging from the hallway near the other end of the dining table.

“Hey,” Peter said to little Peter, tipping his bottle in greeting.

“Hey,” his mini-self answered.

Mini Peter sat down across from him at the table and avoided his eyes. Peter had finished his beer, but felt too weird to get up and grab another. He was about to say something to break yet another bout of awkward silence, or just go get the damn beer, when mini-him blurted out, “I’m sorry.” 

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed. “For what, mini-me?”

“For bringing you here,” he said softly, picking at the napkin on the place setting in front of him. “It was an accident.”

Peter shrugged. “Accidents happen, kid. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” He wasn’t going to hold a grudge over mini him of all people. He was just a kid. He was  _ Peter _ as a kid, so wouldn’t that be kind of like blaming himself?

His brain hurt thinking about it.

“I know,” mini Peter said, halting his dumb, complicated thoughts. That stubborn and determined spark Peter had noticed in the lab was back in the kid’s eyes. “But still. I’m sorry.” 

Peter was slightly bewildered by the kid sitting in front of him. He didn’t remember anyone ever describing him as  _ sweet _ , but that’s what this kid was. Why else would he feel the need to apologize to Peter over a mistake he clearly hadn’t anticipated?

He reached out and put a hand on mini Peter’s shoulder, clearing his throat. “I appreciate it, Peter.” Damn, calling him Peter felt weird as hell. “But didn’t you mess with Stark’s — I mean, Tony’s — puke machine thing to bring me here?” He squeezed the kid’s shoulder, bending his neck down a little and forcing mini-him to meet his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be apologizing to him too?”

Thank god Miles gave him some mentor practice before this because Tony owed him for that flawless delivery. Resolving conflict was his middle name. Screw the B. (Just kidding, Uncle Ben. Rest in peace).

Little Peter huffed like he was about to argue, but then the elevator dinged. “Dinner is served,” Tony announced, strutting over and dropping the take-out bags on the wooden surface. 

Tony handed mini Peter one of the cardboard containers. “Got you chicken fried rice,” he said, his voice almost uncharacteristically soft. Mini Peter took it and didn’t say a word. Tony looked like he was gonna say something else, but snapped his jaw shut, frustration growing in his eyes. He sat down and grabbed his own food.

Peter watched all of this unfold silently, slowly snatching his own box of chicken fried rice off the table and tucking in.

A few minutes passed.

And a few more.

It seemed that mini Peter and Tony were very adamant on ignoring each other, so Peter took matters into his own hands, if only just to prevent any more uncomfortable tension from building.

“So,” Peter said, nodding to the ten or so other empty chairs positioned around the dining table. “Where are the rest of the Avengers tonight? On a mission or something?”

Tony tensed and mini Peter spared the man a small, sympathetic glance before looking back down at his rice. “Yeah,” Tony said eventually. “Something like that.”

_ Huh _ , Peter thought.  _ Weird _ .  _ Like everything else in this damn universe. _

Peter plowed on, though, shoveling more chicken into his mouth. “Are you and the good ol’ Captain still going strong in this dimension?”

Tony choked on his food and mini Peter shot him a wide-eyed look.

“What?” Tony wheezed after regaining control of his breathing.

“I think it was…” Peter paused. “Like two years ago? When you two got married,” Peter said, digging his fork back into his food. “It was a huge thing.”

“ _ Married _ ?” Mini Peter spluttered, seemingly forgetting the silent treatment he had previously been giving the older man. “Mr. Stark,  _ what _ ?”

_Oh, shit_ , Peter thought. _I shouldn’t have said anything._  

He should’ve known better, considering that he’s dead in two of the dimensions he knows about and divorced and depressed in his own. Each dimension is different.  _ Extremely different _ , in some cases. Obviously the Avengers aren’t going to be the same in every universe, let alone exist at all. Peter really didn’t think anything through before he opened his big mouth. He should’ve just dealt with the silence,  _ dammit. _

Tony didn’t answer mini Peter’s question, but whispered, almost to himself, “We got  _ married _ ?” He looked...he looked fucking  _ sad _ .

Peter was _really_ kicking himself now. “Yeah, uh. Different dimensions, you know?” He tried to backtrack. “Did you know I’m divorced in my dimension but happily married in another? I was dead in that dimension, too, so I guess that’s not…” He trailed off, watching as Tony’s face grew paler and paler. “Looks like we’re kinda in the same boat there, so—” 

Peter’s rambling was abruptly cut off by a flash of light and a loud thud.

 

\------

 

Miles’ head slammed into the ground, his breath knocked out of him on impact. There was yelling from somewhere above him, but he could barely open his eyes to see who it was. Everything hurt too much.

“Miles? Oh my fucking  _ shit _ ,” he was eventually able to parse out. There were some more colorful swears and repetitions of his name, followed by someone prodding a his chest like they were thinking about giving him CPR or something. Miles forced himself up with a pained gasp. Absolutely no one was giving him mouth to mouth today.

“I’m fine,” he managed to croak as he got his bearings, ripping off his mask so he could  _ breathe _ . “I think.” He coughed, his eyes sluggishly focusing. “Peter?”

“Jesus fucking christ,” Miles heard, but it didn’t come from Peter’s mouth. He turned his head to find the source.

There were two other people in the room. A boy, probably about Miles’ age, and standing slightly in front of him was... _ Tony effing Stark _ . Oh my god.

See, in the back of his head, Miles knew he wasn’t in his own dimension. Reason one: Peter Parker was sitting right in front of him, and reason two: Miles himself had been the one who opened the interdimensional portal that landed him here.

But he still wasn’t able to stop himself from saying, “Holy shit, you’re  _ alive _ ?” as soon as he laid eyes on Tony Stark.

Tony Stark blanched. “I’m  _ dead _ in your dimension?” His hand went to grip his shirt over his heart. “Married to my ex in one dimension, dead in another.” The kid behind him exclaimed,  _ your ex?! _ but Tony Stark ignored him. “I hate this. Fuck the multiverse.”

“We can have a multiverse-related crisis later,” Peter said to the older man, then looked back at Miles with barely concealed panic in his eyes. “Are you okay?” He took Miles by the shoulders and searched his body for injuries. “Why are you here?  _ How _ did you even get here?”

“I,” Miles started, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips.  _ God _ , his head hurt. “Something was wrong?” No points for eloquence today, apparently.

Peter sighed and sat back on his haunches, his hands dragging over his face. “Well,  _ something _ is definitely wrong  _ now. _ ”

Miles winced and looked away from his mentor’s disappointed face, his own heating up with embarrassment. He made eye contact with the unnamed boy across the room and felt a tickle in his neck.

“You’re like me,” Miles and the kid said in usion.

“Of course, where are my manners?” Peter only sounded mildly annoyed now, gesturing between the teens. “Miles, mini-me. Mini-me, meet Miles.”

“That’s  _ you _ ?” Miles asked Peter at the same time Tony Stark said, “Another spider-kid. I’m gonna go completely gray by the end of the night.”

Peter gave Miles a small, sly smile. “In this universe, that’s me, but in my universe, I was never grounded by Iron Man.” The boy --  _ Peter _ , the boy was also Peter -- and Tony Stark scoffed. “But maybe I should’ve been. Probably would’ve done me some good. Male role model and all that bull.” Peter stood and held out a hand. Miles took it, hopping to his feet. Once he was stable, the pain in his head disappearing marginally with each second that passed, Peter took a step back and put his hands on his hips. “You still haven’t told us how you got here.”

The smaller version of Peter Parker spoke up anxiously, “It wasn’t barf, was it? God, I’m so stupid—”

“It wasn’t barf,” Tony Stark interrupted. “I shut it down before we came up from the lab.”

“Barf?” Miles asked, horrified.

“It’s an acronym,” Peter answered, rolling his eyes. “Long story short, it’s how I got here.”

“Oh,” Miles said. “That must’ve been why my spidey-sense was going off.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“My spidey-sense,” Miles explained. “It was going off for  _ hours _ . I think it was because you weren’t in the right dimension.” His words came faster as he connected the dots. “The same thing happens when Gwen opens an interdimensional portal.”

“Holy shit, Gwen can open portals?”

Miles smiled sheepishly at the adult in front of him. “I guess I can, too?” He didn’t mean for that to sound like a question.

“Miles.” Peter stared at him. “You brought  _ yourself  _ here?”

“I told you, something was happening!” Miles didn’t know how else to explain himself. “My spidey-sense was telling me you were in danger.”

“Well, I’m  _ not— _ ”

But Peter’s protest was cut short as his body twitched and faded. Black, purple, red, yellow, green, blue colored flashes crawled over his skin. Miles cried out and his arms shot forward to catch his mentor as he collapsed, Peter’s body gradually becoming solid again.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Peter swore. “I did  _ not  _ miss that.”

“What the hell was that?” Tony Stark questioned sharply.

Peter threw an arm around Miles’ shoulders and leaned into him, still recovering from his cells splicing themselves apart in front of their eyes. “My body doesn’t like being in another dimension,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. “I can’t believe this is happening  _ again. _ ”

“I’m  _ sorry, _ ” the Peter across the room said miserably.

“Kid, I told you, it’s not your fault.” Peter pulled away from Miles and sat down at the dining table. He put his head in his hands and massaged his temples. “I don’t remember that hurting so much.”

“It’s ‘cause you’re old,” Miles replied unthinkingly.

“Yeah, shut it,” Peter chuckled. “I didn’t miss you, either.”

“Right back at you, Mr. P.”

And, despite all his confusion at what was currently unfolding, at least Miles could find comfort in  _ something _ .

Peter gave him a weary smile, then his expression grew serious and he sat up straighter. “Wait,  _ Miles. _ ” He got up and grabbed Miles’ shoulders again, this time in what appeared to be excitement. “If you brought yourself to this dimension, you can bring us  _ back _ to our own dimensions.” He looked like he just won the lottery. “We can go home right  _ now _ !”

Miles gripped Peter by his arms, his voice was eager.  _ This _ is what his spidey-sense had been telling him. He was the key to save Peter. “You’re right! I’ll just…” He stopped, his heart sinking and arms falling limply at his sides. “Do what I did before.”

Peter’s expression dropped. “Oh, kid,” he muttered, and something hot and acidic curled in Miles’ gut. Humiliation. “Don’t tell me this is something you can’t do on command.”

“I, uh.” Miles rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ebb the shame he felt. “I’ve only tried it once?”

Peter threw his head back and groaned, heels of his hands pressing into his eyes. “Miles, you’re killing me. You’re  _ literally _ killing me.”

“I said I only tried it once,” Miles defended, annoyed that Peter didn’t believe in him.  _ Again. _ Peter was being dramatic, he wasn’t going to  _ die _ . Miles wouldn’t let him die. “I didn’t say that I couldn’t do it on command!”

Peter glowered at him and matched Miles’ irritated tone, “Do it now then! Show us how you did it.”

“Okay!” Miles snapped. “Gimme a sec.” 

Miles focused, breathing out slowly, and tried to flex his hands the same way he did before.

Nothing.

He extended his fingers as far as he could, his joints aching and muscles in his hands straining, but nothing was happening.  _ Nothing was happening _ .

He couldn’t do it on command.

“C’mon, kid!” Peter yelled when Miles tried a third time.

“I can’t do it ‘cause you’re yelling at me!” Miles shouted. The muscles in his hands were clenched so hard they were starting to shake.

“Oh, you little--” Peter seethed. “What are you gonna do when you start to deteriorate too, huh? Did you think about that before you hightailed it over here?” Peter pointed an accusing finger at him. “We’re not in your dimension this time, buddy! I can’t protect you from that!”

“You’re not even giving me a chance--”

“God, that’s what we sound like, isn’t it?” Tony Stark interrupted, looking at teenage Peter, who grumbled something unintelligible back at him and shoved his hands in his pockets.

Adult Peter took a step back and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, let’s all calm down.”

“Speak for yourself,” Miles mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You,” Peter pointed at Miles again, finger jabbing the spray painted spider on his suit. “Be quiet.” He took a deep breath. “Go to Peter’s room.”

“ _ What _ ?” Miles spluttered. Was Peter seriously trying to  _ ground _ him?

“Peter, show -- Miles, right?” Tony Stark looked at Miles to confirm. Miles nodded quickly, still not quite believing the other man was in the same room as him. “Show Miles to your room. Old-man-Peter and I are gonna head back to the lab and try to figure this out.”

“But, Mr. Stark—” Teenage Peter started.

“Just,” Tony Stark said to the kid, his voice pleading. “Please, listen to me. Just this once." 

Teenage Peter looked angry, but relented. “Fine.” He stalked off towards a hallway and Miles was only frozen for an embarrassing three seconds before he realized he was supposed to follow. He scrambled after him, wondering what the  _ hell _ just happened.

“Old-man-Peter?” He heard his mentor mumble as they left. “Really, Tony?”

 

\------

 

Peter’s room was awesome.

Miles had originally planned to let teenage Peter stew in silence since he was obviously mad at Tony Stark, for some reason, so he decided it was probably best to give the other kid some space. Also, he probably wasn’t too happy about Miles and an older version of himself dropping out of the sky and into his dimension, so Miles didn’t want to make him even more upset.

But that was before he saw the inside of his room.

“ _ Dude, _ ” Miles said, skimming his fingers over all the gaming consoles, abandoning his mask on the floor. “This is  _ awesome _ . Did Tony Stark adopt you or something?”

“No,” teenage Peter answered, picking up Miles’ mask and giving Miles a questioning look. “Do you mind?” he asked, holding it up. Miles shook his head and Peter smiled a little, pulling the mask over his face and looking at himself in the full-length mirror next to his door. “Mr. Stark didn’t adopt me. I just stay with him in the tower or at the compound on the weekends. Avengers training and stuff.” He tugged Miles’ mask off, stretching the cloth a bit in his hands. “I really like the black, but it’s so quiet without Karen.”

“Who’s Karen?” Miles asked, picking up and inspecting a Nintendo Switch controller. 

“My AI. Mr. Stark put her in my suit.” Teenage Peter opened his bottom dresser door and took out a classic red and blue spider-suit. He tossed the mask to Miles.“Here, put it on.”

Miles put the controller back and pulled the red fabric over his face. “Hello, you’re not Peter,” a woman’s voice intoned once the mask was over his ears, making Miles jump.

“Uh,” he said, feeling kind of silly. “No, I’m Miles.”

“Hello, Miles,” Karen said. “Are you a friend of Peter’s?”

“Um, yeah, I guess. I’m another spider-person.”

“I know.” Karen almost sounded smug. “You’re vitals are very similar to Peter’s. However, your skin conductivity is relatively high compared to his, and significantly high compared to other non-enhanced individuals. Are you alright, Miles?”

Miles took the mask off enough to show his face. “Dude, this is so sick! She’s so smart.”

Teenage Peter smiled again, and Miles realized he needed to think of another thing to call him in his head. Just plain old ‘Peter’ was probably good enough for now, since the Peter Miles knew wasn’t here.

“Mr. Stark made her,” Peter said, referring back to Karen. “Of course she’s smart.”

“I got my suit from the Peter Parker in my dimension,” Miles said, plopping himself into a squishy looking bean bag chair in front of the TV. “Vandalized it a bit, but his aunt said I could. It’s not like he was there to say no.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, uh.” Miles froze.  _ Damn _ , what was he  _ thinking _ , bringing that up? “The Peter Parker from my dimension died.”

Peter’s face went pale and he swallowed roughly. “Oh.”

Miles cringed at himself. Hearing about how dead you were in another dimension probably wasn’t fun. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, not sure what else to say. He removed the mask and held out to Peter. “It’s cool that Tony Stark put all that tech in your suit, though.”

Peter took his mask from Miles and sighed. “Yeah.”

“Are you mad at him?” Miles asked, already half knowing the answer.

“Kind of.” Peter sighed again, sitting down on his bed. “But he’s probably more mad at me than I am at him.” Peter flopped backward and grabbed one of his pillows, hugging it to his chest. “I’m the reason why the me from another dimension is here,” he said. “And, by extension, why you’re here too, I guess _.  _ I messed with one of Mr. Stark’s machines.”

“Oh.” At least there seemed to be an easy solution to this situation, one that didn’t leave Miles’ body heavy with guilt because  _ he _ was the guy who couldn’t figure out how to use his own powers. “Can’t you just fix it then?”

Peter shrugged, or it looked like he shrugged. It was kind of hard to tell from his current position, curled up on his side. “I don’t think so,” he answered, and Miles’ stomach plummeted. “It’s original purpose was to look at memories. It wasn’t supposed to be a particle accelerator, like,  _ at all _ . But somehow I...messed it up really bad.” He threw the pillow he was clutching at his headboard. “I don’t even know what I did to it, honestly. I was really upset at Mr. Stark because he told me I wasn’t allowed to use it. He said it wouldn’t work for what I wanted to do, so I just...started typing random coding sequences and pulling wires, because I thought that if Mr. Stark wasn’t going to help me make the adjustments, I’d make them myself. It was so stupid,” he moaned, turning onto his back and pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I should’ve just listened to him.”

Miles was starting to lose hope horrifyingly fast, terrified at the thought that adult Peter was relying solely on Miles to get back to his own dimension, and that Miles wouldn’t be able to deliver  _ again _ , but he tried to remain optimistic. “Peter -- I mean, uh, the other Peter is really smart. He’ll be able to help Mr. Stark figure out how to reverse whatever you did.”  _ Or I could figure out how to control my damn powers and make this easier on everyone, _ he thought bitterly, the feeling of embarrassment and helplessness becoming far too familiar for his liking. Adult Peter might as well have tied him up in a chair again, with how this was playing out. He would be just as useful completely immobilized as he was right now, waiting like a sitting duck in Peter’s bedroom.

“I apologized to the other Peter already,” Peter said, interrupting Miles’ self-deprecating thoughts and propping himself up on his elbow. “But I think I owe you one, too.”

“Don’t sweat it, man,” Miles told him, glancing out the floor to ceiling window to his right and scanning his eyes over the city. He needed to get his mind off what was happening, and fast, before the guilt swallowed him whole. “Why don’t you give me a tour of your New York to make it up to me? We could have a web-slinging race!”

Peter’s face lit up, but then fell just as quickly. “We can’t,” he mumbled resentfully. “Mr. Stark told me no spider-manning until he got you back to your dimensions.”

“Damn,” Miles cursed, flopping back down onto the bean bag. He just wanted to have fun with a spider-kid his age. He didn’t get much of a chance before with Gwen, because of everyone’s dimensions collapsing and stuff, but this time the only pressing issue here was Miles and the older Peter. They must have  _ some _ time to goof off before everything inevitably went to shit.

Miles just needed to convince Peter it was worth it. The other kid seemed like he needed a distraction too. An idea popped into his head, and he sat up a little straighter.

“Mr. Stark only said you couldn’t go out ‘spider-manning’,” Miles said, making air quotes with his fingers. “Right?”

Peter shot him a puzzled look. “Yeah,” he said slowly.

“And if we didn’t fight any crime, we technically wouldn’t be  _ spider _ - _ manning _ , would we?”

Peter sat up too, a tentative grin appearing on his face as he understood what Miles was getting at. “Right.”

“We’d just be hanging out,” Miles grinned back. “In our spider-suits.”

Peter nodded seriously. “Just hanging out.”

“Then let’s do it!” Miles stood up and tugged his mask over his face. “Put on your suit.”

“Wait,” Peter’s expression fell again.  _ So close, _ Miles thought. “Friday will tattle on us.”

“Friday?”

“Yes, Miles?”

“ _ Holy shit, what the— _ ”

Peter ignored Miles’ shouting. “FRIDAY is Mr. Stark’s AI. She’s like Karen, but,” he gestured to the ceiling. “Everywhere.”

Miles whipped his head around, trying to find the speakers in the room.  _ Shit _ , were there cameras too? “That’s not creepy at all.”

“I am not made to be intrusive, Miles.” FRIDAY’s voice sounded like it was coming from...well, as Peter said,  _ everywhere _ .

“But it does mean no sneaking out,” Peter pointed out.

“That is correct, Peter,” FRIDAY said, and Peter rolled his eyes, throwing himself back down onto his bed.

Miles fell back onto the beanbag again, annoyed. He wasn’t going to let some dumb robot stop them from having fun. Adult Peter wasn’t going to stop him either. As if he was going to let his mentor ground him when he had a whole new dimension to explore. Peter wasn’t his  _ dad _ . Peter and Mr. Stark probably wouldn’t even notice if they left for a bit.

Miles was determined, a shaky plan formulating in his head. It was pretty simple, stupidly simple, but maybe it could buy them some time to sneak away.

“What if she couldn’t see us?”

Peter turned his head towards him, brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Miles smiled, threw up a peace sign, and turned himself invisible.

Peter gaped at the spot Miles was just sitting. “Oh my god.”

“I know right.”

“You can turn invisible!” Peter exclaimed, jumping up. “Why can’t I do that?”

Miles allowed himself to reappear. “My friend, Gwen, told me the spider that bit me was probably more radioactive than everyone else’s,” he explained. She also told him that it may have even been from another dimension, considering the spider bit him in the same place the particle accelerator was. “I have all of your powers, but I can also turn invisible and electrocute things.”

“That’s so unfair,” Peter said, but with no real heat behind it.

“Hey, it’s not all great,” Miles told him truthfully, thinking about the time he nearly fried a girl’s fingers off while handing her a book, or the time he accidentally turned himself invisible in his sleep and his parents thought he ran away because he couldn’t make himself re-appear until hours later. “I still have a hard time controlling it sometimes.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Peter reassured him. “I forget my own strength and break things all the time. I couldn’t imagine having even  _ more _ powers to deal with.”

“I guess I can open interdimensional portals, too,” Miles said spitefully, remembering the exact reason why he was currently in Peter’s room.  _ Ugh _ , he didn’t want to think about it. “Not very well, obviously.”

“Maybe I can help you practice,” Peter said.

“Thanks, dude.” Miles smiled at him. “That’d be sick.”

Peter smiled back, then got right to business. “So what’s your plan getting us out of here?”

“Right,” Miles said. “I haven’t tried it, but I think I can make you invisible, too. I mean, how have my suit and my clothes been turning invisible with me? I must be doing that somehow.” The logic made sense in Miles’ head, he just hoped it applied to things beyond his own attire.

Peter stood up and held out his hand for Miles’ to take. “Let’s do it.”

 

\------

 

They were back in the lab, Chinese food be damned. Tony threw what was left of it in the trash as soon as mini Peter and Miles were banished to mini Peter’s room, despite Peter’s protests that he wasn’t finished eating yet.

Tony was back to rambling, this time while fiddling with a pair of glasses that apparently connected to B.A.R.F., and Peter could confirm that it was still just as annoying as the first time.

“I don’t know what he expects from me. He’s never acted like this before and I don’t fucking know what to  _ do _ .” Peter wondered if Tony knew he was even talking out loud. He spun idly in a desk chair in the corner of the room, his foot dragging along the ground, thinking about the date with MJ he was going to miss. He’d have to make it up to her somehow. More flowers, probably.

Peter kicked his foot off the ground as Tony prattled on. “And messing with my machines? I never even  _ thought _ the kid would do something like that. And now there’s another spider-kid and a guy who reminds me of  _ me _ from ten years ago, and me from ten years ago was kind of an asshole--”

“I’m right here, you know,” Peter reminded him, stopping the chair and glaring at Tony.

“I know,” Tony snapped.

“Boss,” FRIDAY said suddenly. “It seems that Peter and Miles are invisible. They are about to--”

“Oh,” Peter interrupted her. “He does that. It’s fine.”

“He can turn invisible?” Tony asked.

Peter nodded. “The spider bite gave him some extra powers. Go figure.”

“But, boss,” FRIDAY tried again. “They were also--”

“Mute, FRI. Parker said it was fine and I’m trying to focus here.” 

FRIDAY quieted.

“Why do I have to call you Tony while you get to call me Parker?” Peter asked. “That seems unfair.”

“There’s two Peters in my house right now,” Tony answered. “I figured calling you Parker was easier.”

Peter shrugged, letting it go. “Are you making any progress on your vomit machine?”

Tony let out a long breath, some tension leaving his shoulders. “Not really.”

“Shouldn’t we ask mini-me to help us? He’s the one who brought me here in the first place.”

Tony winced and looked back at the screen. “I’m not even sure he knows what he did. All of the changes he made are sloppy and half-assed. I meant it when I said he wasn’t thinking.” Tony ran his hands through his hair roughly. He looked tired. “Tony Stark tip number 253: never tinker when you’re emotionally unstable.”

“Yeah, uh,” Peter started, his curiosity getting the best of him. “What was that all about? Could your machine really let him to talk to his — um, mine, or our, I guess,” God, multiple dimensions were hell, “--parents?" 

Tony sighed and gestured to the screens hovering all over the lab. “B.A.R.F. was made to help people work through their trauma, but it’s just a prototype. It lets people relive and change their memories in order to help them deal with what happened. I’ve...I used it to say goodbye to my parents, before they died. Because I never did.”

“And Peter…” Peter trailed off, connecting the dots. His heart panged, suddenly.

“Peter wanted to do the same thing.”

“Jeez,” he said pathetically. The thought of an opportunity to say goodbye to his parents...Peter couldn’t blame the kid for wanting that.

“Yeah, I know,” Tony said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the workbench. “But I told him his hippocampus is still developing, and that it was even  _ less _ developed when he was five-years-old. The memories probably aren’t strong enough for B.A.R.F. to work with. And it’s costly, I haven’t worked out all of the adverse effects of tapping directly into the hippocampus yet. I thought he understood. But I guess—” Tony took a breath. “I guess he didn’t take it well.” Tony’s next words were low and deprecating, his guilt nearly tangible in the air of the lab. “I knew he was upset, but I didn’t want to pry. Dead parents are...a sensitive subject. You’re him, you know that.” He spared Peter a glance. “But I still shouldn’t have left him alone when he was upset.”

“But you did,” Peter said, not unkindly. “And now I’m here.”

Tony’s mouth twitched up into an almost-there smile, and Peter found himself fighting off one of his own.

“And now you’re here.”

The moment was...strangely chummy. It wasn’t like he was friends with the Tony Stark in his own dimension. Hell, he’d only talked to the man a handful of times. The Avengers usually left Spider-man to his own devices, but it was weird thinking about...what could’ve been.

Peter has gotten countless headaches over the past few weeks, thinking about all the possible  _ could’ve beens _ across the multiverse.

He pushed those thoughts aside. “Not that I’m a parent or anything,” he started. “I mean, Miles was the first kid I talked to in...years probably, but maybe you should go talk to mini-me before he, um.” Peter tried to look sheepish on his younger self’s behalf. “You know, tries to modify another one of your inventions midst emotional turmoil. Or something.”

Tony actually chuckled at that, then grew quiet. “What would you want me to say to you if you were sixteen and midst emotional turmoil?”

“Isn’t that cheating?” Peter smirked.

“It’s using my current resources.”

“Fair point.”

Truthfully, Peter didn’t know what to say. His automatic instinct was to make another backhand, sarcastic comment, but this was mini  _ him _ they were talking about. Mini him didn’t deserve that, and Peter knew first-hand how much he would’ve liked to have had someone like Tony in his life after Ben. He didn’t want to fuck this up for -- well, himself.

“You’re not  _ actually _ mad at him, are you?” Peter asked in lieu of answering just yet.

Tony sighed deeply. “I don’t think I’ve ever been mad at him,” he said quietly. “Just terrified for him.” Tony groaned, massaging his temples. “I never wanted kids.”

“Me neither,” Peter said. “But then…”

“Miles,” Tony finished for him.

“Yeah.”

“Same here.” Tony looked at him, his gaze firm. “With Peter.”

They reached some sort of understanding.

“I could’ve used someone like you,” Peter voiced his earlier thought out loud. He swallowed, throat suddenly feeling dry. “When I was his age.”

Tony’s jaw clenched. He turned to face the workbench again, setting the B.A.R.F. glasses down gently, but otherwise not acknowledging Peter’s words. That made Peter clam up immediately, self consciously regretting the sap he just spewed. He opened his mouth to say something,  _ anything _ to prevent another awkward silence, when Tony gasped, grabbing his tablet off the table. “What the hell?”

“What?” Peter stood, the anger in Tony’s tone instantly putting him on edge. “What’s wrong?”

Tony ignored him, tapping furiously at the screen. “FRIDAY, why is Peter’s suit online?”

“I tried to tell you, boss,” the AI placated.

“That little  _ shit. _ I’m gonna kill him,” Tony fumed, dropping the tablet back onto the workbench with a clatter that made Peter cringe. The other man gripped his hair tightly and let out a frustrated noise before relaxing his hold and turning to address Peter. “You got a suit?”

“No.” Peter barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Why would I have a suit? I was watching TV when mini-me blasted me into this dimension. Sorry I didn’t have time to suit up--”

“I’ve got web-shooters and a mask, is that good enough for now?” Tony cut him off. “We’ve got some teenagers to bust.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really really hope the difference between the two Peters wasn't too confusing. I didn't think it would make sense to introduce Peter B. as Peter B. because I thought it would be weird for him to refer to himself as Peter B. from his own POV and Miles never really called him that either so...oh well. Let me know if it's confusing.
> 
> Kudos and comments are nice? You can also yell at me on [tumblr](http://werewolvesau.tumblr.com).
> 
> Thank you for reading! The rest will be posted soon, hopefully (I love this too much to not finish it). Please let me know what your thoughts are!!!


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